Phantom
by CGPH
Summary: A murder occurs in Hogwarts. Tensions swell between students and staff alike. Harry Potter gains an unexpected ally in the form of Slytherin student, Daphne Greengrass. As the body count rises, a need for safety isn't the only thing drawing the rivals closer.
1. Bloody Murder

It was the dead of winter, but the air outside was only the second strongest wrath the castle was subject to tonight.

Draco Malfoy stormed through the corridors of Hogwarts. He'd finally been let free of his detention with their Charms teacher, Professor Flitwick. He was, yet again, being wrongly punished for something he was not guilty of. And who was the guilty one? Why, who else?

 _Potter._

Draco sneered at the name.

He and the Weasel King were being annoying in lesson, Draco _politely_ asked them to be quiet and as always, inevitably an argument had broken out. An argument which, of course, resulted in _him_ being given detention and Potter being let off scot-free. The teachers had a favoritism problem when it came to Potter anyway, but ever since Umbridge came to school and actually started fighting on the side of the Slytherins, Draco swore just about every teacher had a personal vendetta against them now.

" _What're you going to do Potter, murder me in a graveyard?"_

He patted himself on the back for that one. It had even earned him a cheer off his side of the class. Definitely worth it in the long run, even if it had resulted in him sitting through an hours worth of cleaning bookshelves after.

It was the harshest winter in a while, and even this deep into the castle he could still hear the sharp howling of the wind outside. The sun was likely disappearing over the horizon right now, despite it not even being afterhours yet. Shadows had overtaken most areas of the castle that weren't light up by wall torches, causing Draco to use the illumination charm to make his way around. He could barely see a few feet above his face, but he'd done the journey back to his common room enough to know confidently where he was going.

It was times like this Draco wished they hadn't gotten rid of Lockhearts duelling club. The man might have been a complete oaf, but just about everybody in his house agreed they'd love the chance to go up against other students in a one-on-one. All it would take was one session between he and Potter and the boy would learn not to talk back to him again. It's only right he should learn some respect for his superiors. After what he pulled today, if it wasn't for the constant over-hanging eyes of Dumbledore, there be nothing stopping him from hexing the Golden-Boy in the back of the head at point blank-range next time he saw him.

Making his way forward through the dark, Draco couldn't help the sudden feeling like he was being watched. A stupid suspicion really, as he was fully aware of the multiple ghosts living inside the castle, and the countless number of selfware portraits. The idea that he _wasn't_ being watched right now by something or other was the more ridiculous idea.

But nevertheless a creeping chill made its way up the back of his neck; one nothing to do with the weather. His pace subtly quickened.

Then, he heard it.

Or, he thought he heard it.

Footsteps. A few feet behind his. An echo, maybe?

No. He distinctly heard a second pair of feet.

He fought against the urge to turn around. It wasn't after hours, and it was a free corridor. If somebody really was behind him, then they had full right to be. True, maybe their parents should have a talk with them about why skulking around in the dark, feet behind other students without saying word maybe wasn't the most polite thing to do, but he digressed. If he was perfectly honest, he'd achieved a rare mix somewhere between tired and creeped out where for once, even Draco Malfoy didn't feel confrontational.

He picked up his speed again, trying to think nothing of it.

It was when the footsteps got quicker that he began to panic.

He span around suddenly, stabbing his wand straight out into the darkness. A moment passed, as Draco expected the owner of the footsteps to make themselves known, or at the very least slow down. But instead they had stopped entirely, making him second guess if he had actually heard anything at all.

"Think you're being funny, do you?" he asked the void.

Admittedly, due to him not being in the mood and getting caught-off guard rather unexpectedly, his voice came out as more of a shrill cry than anything macho or intimidating.

Nonetheless, it had apparently worked. The footsteps didn't return, which meant one of two things. Either his high-pitched scream had scared the owner of them so much that they had chosen to disintegrate themselves into nothingness rather than face him, or he was simply scaring himself over smoke and mirrors. Deciding the second option was probably the most logical, he turned back to his destination and carried on his way.

Seconds after he began walking, the footsteps started again.

They were definitely echoes of his own feet and had always been there, he had decided, and that for whatever reason he simply hadn't noticed them earlier. Probably because the castle had been growing steadily darker as he made his way to home, and he now had less surrounds to focus on, that's why he could hear them now. That was his idea, and it's what he was going to keep telling himself. He was almost at the dungeons now. Honestly, the idea that he could ever be scared wondering around the castle at night… Too much time around Potter must have rubbed off on him.

Unbeknownst to him, a pair of hands suddenly protruded from the darkness behind him. One sealed itself over his mouth, stopping him from screaming out, and the other jammed a silver blade against his adams apple. Draco barely had time to fight, and in his surprise he released the grip on his wand. His only defense and light-source clattered loudly to the ground. He was pulled backwards into the void, disappearing like a diver into an ocean.

As quickly as it had began, the corridor was still yet again.

* * *

"Mister Malfoys disappearance is sudden, and definitely alarming," Dumbledore spoke. "We deeply urge anyone who has information they think might help us in the investigation to step forward."

Rumors had been flying about Malfoy's disappearance the following morning, but they had only just gotten any confirmation about them now. The facts were scarce, but chinese-whispers a plenty. The only solid thing anybody knew was it happened during the previous night's storm. He had failed to make it to the common room that night, and upon further inspection all the Prefects could find of him was his wand, abandoned on a first floor corridor. Lessons had finished but curfew had not yet been called, which combined with the fact the castle was actually suffering from a weather-induced blackout during those hours, meant leads were nowhere to be found.

Despite rampant whispering filling the Great Hall, there was one corner of the Gryffindor table that remained deathly silent.

Harry hated Malfoy, there was no doubt about that. But he would never wish harm on the boy, or at least not to the extent that the rumors were indicated.

"He's probably just been called away on some Death Eater holiday or something," Ron mumbled between them.

"And left his wand behind, Ronald?" Hermione asked.

Harry remained silent. It was rare Dumbledore attended the feasts these days, which meant things were likely as bad as they seemed.

"After talking to his father rather thoroughly, we have decided not to raise the missing persons alarm with the Ministry of Magic. Students have gone missing before in Hogwarts and turned up a week later entirely unharmed, all because they took a wrong turning in the library," Dumbledore smiled, but Harry saw straight through it. He could tell by the teachers shared expressions that things were serious. Nobody ever saw Snape alarmed, yet he looked positively shaken.

"Because this may be the case, we don't want to instil any panic to the students of Hogwarts. Yes, I do admit the circumstances of which Mister Malfoy disappeared do seem suspicious, which is why we are making you aware of them. But I also feel it's worth stating that not for a _second_ do I believe a teacher or student could be responsible for his vanishing."

"Sirius Black!"

The voice, one Harry didn't recognise, had come from the Ravenclaw side. It was met with a thunder of harsh whispers.

Dumbledore raised his hand, silencing them.

"I do not need to explain the likeliness, or rather, _lack of_ , that Sirius Black would be behind Malfoys disappearance. Once again I must ask anybody with information they think could help to step forward, and that shall be all."

The Headmaster usually ended his speeches with an inspirational quote, or an invitation to enjoy the feast, but this time he merely stepped away from the platform and rejoined the teachers. That added to the ever mounting evidence that something in Hogwarts was very wrong.

"You know who's going to get the blame for this, don't you?"

It took Harry a moment to realize Hermione's question was directed towards him.

"What, me?"

Hermione nodded, a trouble expression on her face.

"Umbridge and the Ministry already have it out for you. Half the magical world still thinks you killed Cedric, and now somebody you're _known_ to not get along with goes missing."

Despite the serious subject at hand, Ron hadn't paused his eating, "She's got a point, mate."

His concern for Draco had clouded his initial judgement; Ron and Hermione were completely right.

No doubt when Dumbledore mentioned Lucius earlier, that indicted he was raising hell with him and most likely threatening to involve the Daily Prophet as well. Harry had only narrowly escaped being expelled for underaged magic at the start of this year, and he had heard of more than a few people wanting him to be tried for Cedric's murder as well. If the blame for Malfoys disappearance really landed on him, he doubted even Dumbledore could do anything to help him.

"That's ridiculous, though. I was with you guys?" he suggested. "In the common room, we were playing chess."

Ron shook his head and offered a small laugh.

"I don't think anyone in Hogwarts has trouble believing we'd help you hide a body.."

"Don't say that word!" Hermione hissed. "Malfoy is probably fine! There's no reason to assume the worst like that!"

It wasn't that Harry didn't trust Dumbledore to handle things himself, but… Well, he didn't have the best track record speaking for himself. That, and the growing distance between he and the Headmaster this year gave Harry the feeling he was on his own with this one. Luckily, he and his friends hands-on approach usually served them well in the end.

"We need to find out what happened."

"Jumping ahead a little aren't we?" Ron laughed. "It's not really anything to do with us. Plus nobody has even accused you of anything yet."

"You really think we should wait around for them to?" Harry asked.

Ron fell silent, leaving Hermione to find his answer for him.

"I could ask around our house?" she offered. "See if there's anyone who would go on record that they saw you in there with us?"

Ron nodded, gesturing toward Hermione with his fork. "I'll do that too. Could probably get Neville to say he sat and had a conversation with us or something."

The more he thought about it, the worse this situation seemed to grow.

Obviously any student going missing in Hogwarts was a serious issue, whether he personally liked them or not was irrelevant. But considering it was _Malfoy_ of all people, and how that filtered into the bigger picture… Aka, the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters and how they may respond… It was a daunting prospect, and not one he was looking forward to seeing the end result of.

"Harry? You don't look so good?"

"We need to find him. If he's still in Hogwarts there's not a chance absolutely _nobody_ has seen him. Maybe a ghost or a housemate or something."

Ron forced a chuckle through a full mouth, "that hardly narrows it down, mate."

"But it's a start," Hermione finished for him. "Do you think it's worth asking around in his house and seeing if anyone knows anything they aren't telling the teachers?"

"Could ask Crabbe and Goyle?"

"What makes you think we could get anything out of them?"

Ron shook his head and shrugged sarcastically,

"I don't know, g _enuine concern for their friends safety_ , maybe?"

"I doubt even _then_ that they'd help us," Hermione sneered. "No, we're best-off asking one of the other Slytherins. I'd suggest the Bloody Baron, but given none of us are highly-regarded purebloods I doubt we'd even be able to find him. We should goo for someone who is in Malfoys class but we never see him around, they might have caught wind or overheard something. Theodore Nott, or Tracey Davis maybe."

"And how exactly are we supposed to walk up to them and start asking about their missing classmate _without_ sounding suspicious? We're trying to make Harry look innocent, remember?"

"Because he _is_ innocent!" she snapped.

Hermione's increased tone caught the attention of a few other Gryffindors at their table, who glanced over at her. She shrank away from their gazes, blushing.

She did have a point, Harry thought.

Pansy Parkinson was the first person who came to mind. It was a hotly debated subject in the Gryffindor common room if she and Draco were seeing each other or not, and although the answer was still up for interpretation, it was definitely a fact that the two were very close. He imagined Malfoy would tell her things he considered too personal for Crabbe and Goyle. She would be a good place to start, the only problem there was some underlying tension between she and him. It was always worth a shot though, and especially if it was for Malfoys safety?

"There is Daphne Greengrass, I suppose," Hermione said suddenly, and mostly to herself. "She and I have studied together a few times and she seems nice enough. Also a very skilled witch. I wouldn't exactly say she's a friend, but she's minded my stuff in the library before. I guess that makes us a vague acquaintances..?"

Harry couldn't find a face to match that name, but he definitely remembered hearing her name being called out on registers before.

"Sick, you can go ask Daphne," Ron nodded. "I'll ask Neville, and Harry can go ask his best mate, Seamus."

Harry opened his mouth to retort his Ron's joke, but Hermione interrupted them.

"I don't have time," she said suddenly, "I'm already busy organizing Harry's stuff for the next DA meeting. And now I've also got to ask people in our house if they're willing to collaborate our story as well. It'll have to be one of you, and besides, I'm barely on that good terms with her myself."

"Well _I'm_ not doing it," Ron frowned. "I can barely talk to girls I don't know anyway, never mind one in Slytherin."

Harry didn't even need to catch them both turning to look at him before he knew the way their conversation was going to go.


	2. Into the Snake Pit

He wasn't nervous.

Not in the least bit.

She was just a Slytherin. That wasn't a big deal, realistically. The whole house feud was probably something they'd all forget about a year after graduating. Hermione had even described it once as "a social construct designed to herd and repress us". While he didn't consider himself intelligent enough to argue that she was right, she had certainly made her point very well. Slytherins were just as human as Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs, minus a few personality traits. It wasn't like he'd been living with them for six years now and had seen nothing of them except their unintelligence, negativity or bullying.

A serious matter was at hand. He needed to focus.

Although he couldn't care less about Malfoys safety, a nagging voice told him if he didn't do the right thing then he (and Hermione) would be beating himself up over it. There was no need for this to become this years obligationary Hogwarts mystery adventure, all he had to do was get the information he needed then hand it off to a Professor. Although he didn't like to admit it, he was also aware of the fact that if there really was a sinister force behind Malfoy's disappearance, it probably wasn't going to be a threat to him, as the two couldn't be more opposing. That didn't make the situation any better, but the relief of not being the one under threat for once was definitely a conscious thought he'd had.

Just a shame that didn't make his current situation any easier.

On his more hormonal side of things, although he hadn't outwardly admit it, Ron's point from earlier lingered in his mind. He was going to talk to a _girl_. Harry had barely ever spoken to a girl he wasn't already friends with or who shared his class.

How was he even supposed to approach her? Introduce himself and then ask about her day? Or just cut straight to the point? Did he try and be her friend first and them worm Malfoy into the conversation, or should he start off with proposing a truce and laying his cards on the table? How was Daphne even going to respond to him? He'd never met her, but her houses distaste of him seemed pretty universal, so should he expect the same treatment?

Harry's overthinking followed him the entire journey from the Great Hall to the second-floor Library. When he arrived he slipped inside silently, and after a polite nod to Madam Pince, began pretending to browse through the dozens of bookshelves. It didn't take him long to locate his target, who was surprisingly, in the exact area Hermione had guessed she would be.

Daphne Greengrass wasn't short for a girl, but standing up, the top of her head would likely only reach up to Harry's eyeline. She had platinum blonde hair, green eyes and a figure that made her look slightly younger than her other classmates. She was sat on a settee in front the fireplace, with her feet tucked under herself and nose buried in a library book.

Harry pushed his anxiety to the back of his mind and approached her. He tried stepping loudly as he neared, in hope to not startle her, but as he got closer the girls attention remained solely on the text in front of her.

He gently coughed into his hand, causing her to flinch in surprised.

She looked up at him. After apparently taking a second to process things, her eyes grew wide and mouth dropped open.

"Harry Potter?" she asked quietly.

Harry repressed the urge to make a crap joke and instead simply nodded.

"Yeah, hey."

He briefly raised his hand in a half-wave.

"You're Daphne Greengrass, right?"

She didn't respond to him immediately. Something about the way she was staring at him didn't sit particularly well with him. With her eyebrows in her hairline and jaw hanging open, she looked like a cross between starstruck and mortified.

After another second passed, she was able to somewhat regain her composure closed her mouth. She silently nodded, but otherwise, did nothing to further the conversation.

Harry offered her a smile.

"Okay, great! Do you mind if I sit?"

Again the girl remained completely unresponsive for a few seconds before acting. Then she quickly dragged her legs out from under herself and gestured to the sofa beside her, nodding.

He'd been talking to this girl for seconds and was already forcing himself to not make a run for it. Why was she being weird? Why was she looking at him that way? Why wasn't she talking? Was he doing something wrong? Was she always like this? Should he stick to the plan and try to be polite or just abort mission and come back later with Hermione?

Reluctantly, Harry took a seat beside her, albeit on the furthest end of the sofa. The look her face was giving him indicated if he got any closer she'd scarper like a deer in headlights.

"So, erm…"

He began to get the sinking feeling it wasn't over thinking he was doing earlier, because right now he was talking to her and had no idea what to say or further the conversation.

"You're in my class, right? A friend of Malfoys?"

It was a place to start, he settled on. It wasn't like there was any way for this conversation to not be awkward, so he might as well get the information as soon as he could so they could stop talking asap.

Gently Daphne shook her head, which confused him. Wait, so she wasn't in his class? This was Daphne Greengrass, wasn't it? It had to be, or she wouldn't have said yes earlier and let him sit with her.

"He's not my friend," she said suddenly and quietly, "but I am in his class."

Maybe it was just because she was acting weird right now, but her voice as well made her come across as younger than she was. Pansy Parkinson had a deep voice for a woman, but Daphne's made her sound like more like a child.

Harry nodded, pleased to be getting somewhere.

"Okay, well... I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about him? I take it you've heard he's disappeared, I'm trying to figure out where he might have gone. That, or maybe figure out if anyone knew of any enemies he might have?"

Daphne snorted suddenly, catching Harry by surprise.

"You mean, outside from you?"

He shook his head, and held a firm hand up.

"I was _nothing_ to do with his disappearance," he stated. "In fact, that's deliberately why I'm trying to find out what happened to him and if he's okay, because I know I'm going to be the first person on a lot of people's mind, especially with all everything Umbridge and the Inquisitorial Squad are spreading about me, so even if I can't find out what happened to him if I can at least be seen to actively trying to _help_ him I might gets people's suspicions off me, even though I don't have anything to act suspicious about but with everything that is already going on I just _know_ people are going to draw the comparison so I'm trying to be prepared..."

Harry had to gasp for a breath when he finished, not realizing how much he'd just tried to force out.

Daphne simply let out another small laugh.

"It's okay, it's alright. I know you weren't anything to do with it. You'd never hurt anyone."

He offered her a strange look, sensing an oddly cryptic meaning behind her words. Was she being sarcastic? Was that a dig at him for what happened to Cedric? Why had she suddenly gone from goldfish to giggling schoolgirl?

Sensing his unease, Daphne caught herself, and held her hand up also.

"Sorry, ignore me. I'm a bit of a fan, so I'm being weird," she blushed.

Her words of ease did nothing but further confuse him.

"A fan?" he asked.

The Slytherin bit her lip, and tugged at the sleeve of her robes.

"I was rooting for you in the Triwizard Tournament, I mean. You were really, really great in that. And don't worry, I don't believe anything that the Daily Prophet or Professor Umbridge is saying about you," she seemed like she had finished her sentence, but then suddenly added, "It's kind of weird you talking to me, actually, I didn't think you knew I existed honestly."

A red blush made its way into Harry's cheeks, and he again found himself struggling on how to continue the conversation. Now it was his turn for his jaw to hang loosely open, as he was unable to form a coherent response to the girl's sudden compliment tirade. This Slytherin had just given him more positivity in a single sentence than a five years worth of classes with Malfoy.

"Well... it's nice to meet a Slytherin who doesn't hate me," he finally settled on, but there was more nervous laughter in his voice than he'd intended.

Daphne smiled at him. It was a toothy grin, one he'd only seen once before, plastered over Ron's face at the Quidditch World Cup. It made his blush intensify, and in the pit of his stomach he felt a swelling of butterflies.

"But, yeah, sorry, anyway," she shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't help. I'm really sorry, but I barely speak to Draco, I don't have any idea where he's gone. He's a bit of a nob to most people in our class, honestly. Most people are only friends with him because it's easier than being his enemy. You'd be surprised how disliked he actually is."

Silently thanking her for returning to the conversation, Harry nodded, and scratched at his head.

"Yeaaah… he doesn't strike me as the most popular bloke."

Daphne adjusted her position so she could turn and face him head on. It seemed whatever nerves she'd been she was now either over or had been able to repress.

"Most Slytherins are nice and normal people, actually," she shrugged, "but unfortunately the annoying ones are louder. Pansy's entire dislike of you is purely down to the fact she fancies Draco... I find it rather gross and demeaning, actually. Same goes for Crabbe and Goyle, but I expect that's more of a masculinity thing."

"That's good to hear, I suppose?"

Then Daphne leaned in, and in a quieter tone said, "And I shouldn't be telling you this, but more than a few Slytherins are secretly rooting for you. And not just because we'd love to see someone knock Draco off his high horse."

Harry couldn't figure out if she was joking or not, but decided to laugh anyway.

"I don't like him in the slightest, everyone knows that, but I wouldn't him to be hurt or anything," he clarified.

He didn't want to get caught out chatting shit about Malfoy, just on the off chance that Daphne's intentions were not as pure as they seemed. Plus, Harry actively tried to avoid that kind of negativity anyway, as it reminded him too much of the conversations he'd overhear on Private Drive.

Less enthusiastically, Daphne nodded.

"Oh yeah, of course. I hope he shows up soon, I guess. Maybe whatevers happened to him will help him gain a little more modesty."

There was a definite level of scorn in her voice, and it was obvious she had a disdain for him. Hermione had definitely struck gold when she'd suggested Daphne as someone to start with.

"And you don't know anyone who might be responsible for him going missing?" he offered again.

The Slytherin shook her head.

"He has enemies all over the school. He has this weird complex where he hates everyone who is remotely better than him. He only keeps the troll boys around because they agree to whatever he says. And I already said about Pansy. The kid has masculinity issues to the max. I blame the parents."

"The troll boys?" Harry repeated, smiling.

Daphne smirked, "can you think of a more accurate name for them?"

Pretty much after her first sentence on the matter, Harry believed that she knew nothing of Malfoys disappearance. He just couldn't find a way to continue the conversation after she had already said no. Deciding to not push the good luck he'd already have, he stood up and straightened his robes.

"Well, thanks for your help anyway, I really appreciate it. Sorry for interrupting you reading," he gestured to her potions books.

"Merlin's Beard, not at all!" she stood up suddenly, really bringing out the height difference between the two. "You can talk to me whenever you want! I'm just really sorry I couldn't be of more help."

Her sudden straightforwardness took him by surprise. In the distance, he was sure he caught sight of Madam Pince glaring their way. His blush returned, but this time more from being self-consciousness than flattery.

"Don't worry about it. And I guess I'll see you in lesson sometime?" he offered.

Daphne nodded her head, smiling.

"I'd like that."

Deciding the two weren't on handshake terms yet, Harry offered the girl a polite nod before then making his way out of the library. That had gone a million times better than he had expected.

Well, actually it hadn't, because he hadn't gotten any of the information he'd wanted, but… At least he made a new friend?

Only after the door had closed did Daphne allow herself to exhale and sag her shoulders.

Behind her, Madam Pince made her way through the bookshelves, seemingly deep into her organising.

"Congratulations on being subtle, darling."

At the librarians sarcasm, Daphne was unable to do anything beside hang her head in shame and allow her fringe to hide her burning cheeks.


	3. Martyr

As the next day came the weather outside worsened once again. By the time lessons had begun, the sky outside had become a blackened ceiling, and the snow almost had a grey tinge to it. As the storm outside increased, tensions between the staff and students followed suit.

There was still no news or answers yet as to the reason behind Draco's disappearance. And as the days ticked over it became ever increasingly unlikely that any would be given. As far as the schools population could tell, it was as though he'd simply disappeared into thin air. The rumor that somebody _inside_ the castle was responsible was an increasing one.

As people drained out of their dorm rooms, our three Gryffindors students made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Hermione flashed a goofy smile.

"She said she was a _fan_? That's so adorable."

As pleasant and not-at-all-awkward as the exchange between Harry and Daphne might have been, it had done nothing to help the trio figure out Malfoy's whereabouts. They still knew as much as anybody else, which was an unusual. Even outside from proving his innocence, Harry would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about Malfoy now.

Ron grimaced beside her.

"I think it's a bit creepy, don't you?"

"Absolutely not!" she scoffed. "I think it's _good_ there are people in Slytherin who like Harry. Especially if what she's saying is true, and there are others in their house rooting for him. It really destroys the stereotype of their house that Malfoy's gang seems passionate to promote."

The walk to the Great Hall had been taken mostly in silence. While Ron and Hermione were going over what he'd told them about Daphne, Harry had picked up on something new.

"Pfft, I guess. She not say anything else about Malfoy, Harry?"

When his response didn't come immediately, Hermione turned to him.

"Harry?"

The open doors to the dinning area were ascending upon them, and from what Harry could see, his suspicions were now justified.

"Somethings wrong."

The Great Hall was alive with whispers. Classes usually started at different times, and thus most students breakfast times were scattered, but now everybody had filed in, pushing the hall to its absolute brim of student capacity. The unusually empty corridors made Harry picked up on the changed atmosphere on his way down, and his thoughts were now confirmed.

The three quickly made their way over to their usual places on the Gryffindor table and sat down, albeit it a little tighter than usual.

"Oi Neville, what's going on?"

Neville separated from a hushed conversation with Dean Thomas and leaned in close.

"Apparently someone else has gone missing."

"What!?" Hermione gasped.

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore's magically-enhanced voice rung through the hall, causing more than a few students to jolt in surprise.

All eyes turned onto the weary Headmaster as he approached the speaking platform. He looked more tired than usual.

"Now, I will not tolerate false spreading of rumours in this castle's halls, so I demand that everybody quiet down now and please _listen_ to what I am about to say!"

Dumbledore rarely shouted at his pupils. Whatever had happened was definitely something more serious this time, Harry guessed.

But what could be more serious than a student going missing?

"As you all may have heard... an event took place approximately three hours ago in the dungeon corridor. As to what _exactly_ took place I am unable to say, but as a direct result of it, one of our very own teachers is now in life-threatening condition at St Mungos Hospital."

An explosion of whispers overtook the Great Hall. It didn't usually take Dumbledore much effort to control his crowds, but this time it took a more than a few seconds of arm waving before his students finally settled. Again, another sign that things were worse this time.

"There is no doubt in my mind that this attack is linked with the disappearance of Mister Malfoy. And yes, I am aware that doesn't shine a good light on the likeliness of Mister Malfoy showing up unharmed. Again, I must ask… nay, _beg_ of anybody who may have any information as to the reason behind these events to please step forward. Myself, and all of the staff and prefects are fully prepared to take anonymous statements. That is all I have to say, and I'm sure I speak for us all when I say Hogwarts wishes Professor Umbridge a speedy recovery. The prefects at the door will escort you to your lessons after breakfast."

Another sweeping of whispers drown out the last part of his sentence, but the Headmaster returned to his seat regardless of if his words were heard or not. The second he sat down, Harry observed, he dove into a heated discussion with Professor McGonagall.

"It was _Umbridge_?" Neville whispered harshly.

"Oh, thank god."

" _Ronald!"_

Ron waved her off, chuckling to himself.

* * *

Just as Dumbledore had said, lessons that day continued as planned. The Prefects escorted everyone to their classrooms, a difficult task which would usually have been accompanied by a tense silence. Unfortunately the current students of the castle were all too familiar with danger lurking around every corner. In the past, with the disappearances during their second year, and the increased security for their third year, they had both brought with them a heavy atmosphere and thoughts of paranoia.

This time however? Apparently the news that Umbridge was the one attacked had gone over with the students a _little_ easier than the Professors had imagined.

While the Prefects fought tightly to keep their celebrating classmates under control, at the head of the Gryffindors group was an unusual silence.

"I can't believe everybody is so _happy_ about this. It's absolutely barbaric," Hermione scowled, sending sparse death glares behind her.

"Oh come on Hermione, Umbridge was asking for it."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort Ron's comment, but he beat her to it.

"I'm _not_ saying she deserved what she got, but our lives just got a bloody lot easier," he laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's comment, but didn't respond otherwise. She knew it wasn't worth the arguing.

"Tell you what though, Harry," he added, "you _positive_ you're not the one behind it?"

There it was, Ron had just vocalized the exact thoughts already going through his head.

There was no way this wasn't going to be linked back to him now. True, Ron had said it as a joke, but things were falling too perfectly into place for others to not suspect him as well.

Was he being set up? Was this a deliberate attempt to try and point fingers towards him? What else _could_ it be? Malfoy being attacked on his own in a dark corridor was one thing, but who was brave enough to attack a teacher in broad daylight? Much less, be strong enough to actually win?

Right now spirits were high, but he had no doubt as soon as things died down he'd find suspicious eyes landing on him.

"He's still worried about Malfoy," Hermione answered for him. "And I don't blame him."

"The school should be on lock down. If it was anybody else there would be Dementers at our door any minute. Is it _really_ appropriate for us to be continuing lessons given the circumstances?" she asked aloud.

"Quite right it is, Granger!"

The three Gryffindors spasmed out in freight.

Professor Sprout had approached them from behind, and despite her small size, easily scooped the three of them up her arms.

"The best offense is a good defence!" she exclaimed. "Who or _what_ ever is behind the attacks, it's important we don't let it scare us all into submission! We will _not_ be moved! Now then, first one to lesson gets twenty house-points!"

With that the plum woman released them and overtook the group, running giddily on her little legs. A few stray students broke off from the group to chase after her, causing shouts from the overworked Prefect.

"I can't believe it..." Hermione shook her head. "The entire school is over the moon. Even the Professors!"

Ron merely shrugged.

"If you can't beat them."

Admittedly, it was difficult to not feel the festivities in the air.

Umbridge's control over the school had been increasing like an iron grip, and having the school free of her definitely came as a relief, even if it was under under bad circumstances.

Maybe Harry was overthinking all of it? It wasn't like he was the only person Umbridge had it out for. If he was completely honest, the news that she was the one attacked didn't even stun him. And that was through no direct malice towards her (although those feelings were definitely there), it was more the fact he'd seen it coming. True, he may have been the most vocal about his disdain, but she had given most of the schools population detention within a few weeks of term beginning. The same went for Malfoy. He'd committed years of bullying, more than enough for other people to build up a hatred towards him. If everyone in Hogwarts had to put together a list of the top five most unpleasant people in the school, then he was sure the two of them would be high up on most lists.

He had so much attention focused on him the previous years, maybe he was jumping the gun a little this time? After all, nobody had actually accused him of anything yet. Going out of his way to help a student he'd known for five years of his life was one thing, but a ministry spy who despised him and made his life a living hell? Even Harry wasn't that charitable. And what if trying to get on top of the rumours was just going to cause him to look more guilty? Should he just relax, and take faith in the system to work itself out? If worse came to worst, it's not like he had anything to hide, after all.

If people suspected him already, they were definitely hiding it well. He could've sworn he even saw Seamus send a smile his way on the walk down.

As the class drained into the Herbology classroom the atmosphere steadily relaxed. Today Gryffindor was sharing it's lesson with Slytherin, and Harry couldn't help but notice the latter students had been unusually quiet on the walk down. Outside the greenhouse, winter was raging hard, causing Professor Sprout to shout over the howling noise of the winds against the glass walls.

"Now then class! Today we will be de-toothing the common magical garden planet, Fanged Geranium! These fangs are highly sort after for their medicinal purposes, and as a special treat I'm letting you _keep_ whatever you manage to pick! We'll be working in partners of Gryffindors and Slytherins, so if you'll all please line up there!"

Harry obeyed and lined up with his classmates as Sprout began to read off the pairs. The first pair read off was Hermione with Daphne Greengrass, who both greeted each other with warm smiles. It was the kind of exchange given between friends, not _vague acquaintances._ In fact, going off how comfortably they seemed to be conversing, Harry had a sneaking suspicion he'd been set up the other night,

"Potter, me boy! You're with our Miss Parkinson!"

His attention was brought back to the classroom, and he found his Slytherin partner was already upon him.

He opened his mouth to greet her, but paused.

Pansy did _not_ look good.

Her eyes were bloodshot, with deep purple rings underneath. Her skin was dry and looked to be cracking, which she also hadn't attempted to hide. It looked like she hadn't slept since Malfoy's disappearance, which, all things considered, wasn't that unlikely.

The two of them silently set to work, but there was already a tension in the air. Harry felt it was his place to say something, but his logical side was keeping him quiet. There was nothing he could say that wouldn't cause an argument. But when his empathy inevitably did overrule his common sense, his tried his best to keep his attention remained solely on the plant pot in front of him.

"You alright, Pansy?"

"I just want you to know," her voice came suddenly, and from close behind, "that if you had _anything_ to do with Draco's disappearance, I'm going to find out. And then I'm going to kill you."

Harry instinctively went stiff.

He hadn't felt her presence approach him, yet she'd gotten close enough to have her lips inches from his ear. He suddenly felt very vulnerable. He doubted she'd try anything against him in the middle of a lesson, but at the same time, she didn't seem all there mentally. It didn't last long however, as Pansy then moved off and began sorting through the lessons ingredients.

He sighed in relief.

It did make sense she suspected him, though, so he couldn't blame her hostility. For all she knew there was no evidence that it _wasn't_ him. She and Malfoy's relationship was often speculated about, but it was clear the two of them definitely shared something. Now he was thinking about it, it was surprising this was the first time he was hearing off her. He didn't know what rubbish Malfoy had fed her to pollute her opinion of him in the past, but he doubted at this point there was much that could be said to convince her of his innocence.

But despite his logic and want for a normal education pleading otherwise, he couldn't rinse Pansy's dead eyes out of his mind.

She didn't look angry at him. Yes, there was disdain in her gaze, but only on the surface. She looked _tired_.

She was tired and hurt.

She wasn't threatening him just for the sake of being mean. She wanted Malfoy back.

"Do _you_ think I had anything to do with it?" he asked suddenly, but quiet enough to keep their conversation private.

Pansy returned to the table, and just like him, kept her attention solely focused on the work at hand. The more she spoke, the more the strain in her voice made itself present.

"Everybody knows you hate him. He goes missing. Everybody knows you hate Umbridge. And now someone tries to attacks her. Don't insult me by playing innocent... Pass me the forged towel."

Harry obeyed her command and handed her the fabric.

"I know it looks bad, Pansy, but I have nothing to do with either of those, I swear. If Malfoy is still out there, I wan-"

"He _is_ still out there."

For the first time her voice had turned harsh. Harry spotted her knuckles turning white against the rim of the plant pot.

It took him a second before he responded.

"... _then_ I want to find him," he settled on. "Probably not as much as you do, but I want him to be safe. I don't like him, but he doesn't deserve to be in danger."

Harry's words lingered in the air for a moment before Pansy could find her response.

"Bullshit," she remarked, shovelling fertiliser into the pot.

" _Not_ bullshit," he retorted. "Pansy, you knew him better than anybody. I would have thought if anyone knew what could have happened it would be you."

"I _know_ what happened to him. And I _know_ you had something to do with it."

Harry bit his lip, and resisted his slowly-growing frustration. He couldn't decide between being hurt that somebody would think so lowly of him, or frustrated that everything he was saying appeared to be bouncing straight off her.

"I'm not a bad person, Pansy. I'm just someone with terrible luck who's trying his best. If you know anything that might help, please tell me."

She sneered.

"I'd kill myself before I helped you. Give me the weed spray."

Her voice was growing increasing stern, and her requests becoming more like demands.

"Even if I can help you find Draco?"

"Why would _you_ want to find him?"

"Just because I don't like him doesn't mean I want him to be hurt."

Then, an idea hatched in him. T

rying to convince her of his good intentions was seemingly doing nothing, so he decided to talk to her in a way she would understand. He was going to appeal to her Slytherin side.

" _And_ because if he turns up safe and unharmed, then he can vouch that I was nothing to do with his disappearance. I want him to be okay so I can prove my innocence."

His words floated in the air again for a moment, and for a few drawn-out moments the only sounds in the greenhouse was the background chatter of their classmates and the shovelling of soil.

"How can _you_ help?"

She didn't seem to be fighting him anymore, he observed, and decided to roll with it.

"I just need to know information that can help. Did he mention anything unusual? If it's something bad then you have my word it won't get back to the Professors. Or, if not… I don't know, does he have any enemies who might have it out for him?"

"You mean outside from you?"

Harry let out a light sigh, and collapsed his hands to his sides.

" _Why_ do people keep saying that?"

Just then, Pansy made a noise that sounded half way between a cough and a repressed sneeze. But Harry decided it was a laugh.

"I just… I don't know."

She released her gardening equipment and lifted her head, eyes closed. It looked like whatever she'd been doing to hold herself together was finally becoming undone.

"I didn't notice anything different about him," she shook her head. "I just don't know…. I'm so _angry_ at him for being weak enough that he'd let himself get taken like that. And I _hate_ myself for not being there for him. And now I'm talking to _you_ , who I also hate. I real-"

"You had _nothing_ to do with his disappearance."

Harry had planned to let her finished, but his mouth had acted before his brain.

Pansy looked like she was going to say something, but stopped herself. Harry knew instantly he shouldn't have spoken. The Slytherin girl closed her eyes again, and bit down on her bottom lip. This time her brow curled up, and it was clear whatever wall she'd built up had finally been shattered.

Harry was only able to catch a quick glimpse of a shine from her eye, before she suddenly quickly made her way out of the greenhouse, roughly slamming the glass door behind her. A single plant pot fell to the floor in her wake, cracking loudly.

The room slowly grew silent. His classmates had only seen the end results of their conversation, not his intention, and so Harry felt more than a few judging eyes landing on his person.

Watching the door, Professor Sprout merely shook her head and tutted.

"The poor dear."

* * *

 **A/N** I'm at Manchester MCM Comic Con this weekend, as a result this chapter was a little rushed. Will probably go back over it a few times to polish it up. Really wanted to get something out, especially since Living Dangerously doesn't have an update coming this week.


	4. Cruel Force

Umbridge's apparent attack had sent the school system into disarray. Second lessons for the day ended up being cancelled for unknown reasons, but Harry would put his money on the staffs lack of power over the situation. They themselves probably felt extremely vulnerable now, and that wasn't helped by the fact most pupils were taking light of the situation and celebrating. The lack of students understanding the severity of the situation was probably just adding to the staffs already phenomenal levels of stress.

By the time the next day rolled around things had seemingly started to calm down at last. Lessons were still suspended until further notice which was an unusual act that left many with the feeling of unease. It was the reality check many of them needed to remind them there was a killer among the castle walls. Suddenly gone was the _ding dong the witch is dead_ attitude and a return to the somber setting they'd experienced during Sirius Black's reign. There was a rapidly setting in air of tension between staff and students alike.

In the Gryffindor Common Room, the golden trio found themselves set around the fireplace.

"I'm telling you," Hermione stressed, "they're waiting for Umbridge to wake up. They want to see if she can identify who attacked her."

"If she _does_ wake up."

"That's not funny."

"It wasn't a joke," Ron grimaced. "Magical healing is bloody powerful. Harry survived a forty foot fall and Madam Pomfrey had him up and walking about the same afternoon. They've got St Mungo's doctors working on her and she's still in critical… whoever did it knew their curses."

Hermione knew he was correct, but forced a smile through her teeth regardless, "as _soon_ as she's awake she'll be able to identify who it was who attacked her. And once they're identified, we'll also know what happened to Malfoy. Lessons will go back to normal and we'll be able to leave this whole nasty business behind us."

Harry, who had done is best to remain silent during their discussion, rose his head. He hadn't been being quiet through deliberate intent, he'd just been considering his own options.

"What happens if she didn't get a clear look at who attacked her?"

"Then…" she drew silent as she caught his ominous meaning, and her face reflected a similar feeling of realization. She placed her head in her hands.

"Then… well, realistically..."

Harry nodded.

There was no way this wouldn't be twisted around so the blame fell on him. And with that, the decreasing mood of the common room around them went down a further few notches.

"So... we have to finish her off, then?" Ron asked.

Hermione gasped loudly and slapped him on the leg.

"Whatever would make you say such a thing!"

Ron answered with a chuckle.

"I'm only having a laugh!"

"Well you can't laugh about things like that," she stressed. "What if people _heard_ you?"

"I mean, right now, nobody has actually come after Harry so… I don't know, maybe we're just overthinking all of this?"

"One person, actually."

The two pair of eyes turned to him, and he took that as his cue to elaborate.

"In Herbology, yesterday. Pansy blames me for what happened to Malfoy. She's really torn up about it."

Hermione nodded.

"I did see her storm out... I wondered what you said to her."

"I didn't say anything, if _anything_ I just defended myself. Actually even thought I was going to get through to her for a minute."

"You think so?"

"She has feelings for Malfoy," he explained. "She'll do anything to make sure he's okay. She said even if that means helping me... Not in those exact words, but I caught the gist of it."

Hermione chewed her lips, seemingly reaffirming her own thoughts.

"Right. Remember that. She could be useful."

"I've got an idea," Ron suddenly perked up.

Harry and Hermione looked at him expectedly. Ron jumped from his seat and grabbed a plant pot off the mantelpiece.

"We should talk to the Order, see what they think about it! There's no way they've not heard what's going on."

Ron looked to Hermione for an answer, when Harry suddenly found himself on board.

"Common room is empty…" he pitched in. "Umbridge's lock-down got removed when she left the castle, now _is_ our best chance."

Hermione thought for a second before nodding her head vigorously.

"Let's do it."

Ron threw a handful of the solid down onto the fireplace, and after speaking the location place, a small flame burst up from the coal.

"Hello?" Harry asked the, as of yet, empty flame.

The flame whirled and twisted a few times, but no answer came. There were distant voices, only just distinguishable from each other.

" _That fire looks a lot like Harry. Oh my god, wait."_

Finally the flame settled on an shape, and Sirius Black's face suddenly joined them in the common room.

"Oh thank Merlin, you kids are okay!" his husky voice was further distorted by the flames. "Why the bloody hell aren't you responding to our owls?"

They shook their head in unison.

"We haven't received any. None at all, in fact," Harry answered.

The fiery face sneered.

"Damned Dumbledore, must be intercepting them. Hogwarts is trying to keep the attack under wraps until they can find out who's behind it."

Hermione gasped.

"They're not letting us contact the outside world? That's illegal! They can't keep us here against our will!"

Sirius bit his lip and frowned. He seemed to think for a second, before shaking his head.

"A prisoner is only a prisoner if he knows he is one... Dumbledore is scared this will be the final straw to have him removed and the school closed. All it takes for one concerned parent to go to the Profit and suddenly Rita Skeeter gets a field day. I'd say I don't blame him, but word is already starting to leak that something isn't right."

Harry leaned in and his voice became a loud whisper.

"How're things with the Order?"

They couldn't make out what expression Sirius was pulling, but his tone answered that for them.

"Chaos. Lucius has been throwing up a storm since little Malfoy disappeared. We're expecting he thinks the Order are responsible, which means we're probably due for a retaliation from Death Eaters any day now. All of Grimmauld Place has been on lockdown... or it was, till last night. Kingsley and Arthur had to leave for Ministry business."

"Dad isn't with you?" Ron suddenly asked.

"Don't worry, my boy, he'll be fine. He and Kingsley are making a point to be the first ones on the scene when the old bat wakes up. How are things in Hogwarts? We haven't had any contact with Snape or Dumbledore."

"They're not good," Hermione answered for them. "Lessons have been suspended."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her choice of concern, and decided instead to reword her answer.

"We don't know what's going on," he said. "Outside from telling us that the attacks have happened, the teachers aren't talking about it. Something is definitely going that they're not telling us."

"Mmmhmm... You'll probably find they're just as in dark about it as you lot are. I take it you three haven't been involved?"

Hermione shook her head.

"We're worried about people thinking that, actually. Harry was known to not get on with either Malfoy or Umbridge. And with everything the Profit is already saying about him, we're worried the blame will eventually come his way."

Sirius sighed and shook his head.

"The thought had occurred to me. No teachers have pulled you up on it, have they?"

"Not at all."

"Good. As much as it pains me to say, Snivellus will be your best bet. If you can convince him you're not involved, he'll be a valuable ally."

For just a moment, Sirius's face disappeared from view. In its place was a hint of whispering echoes in the back. When he returned, he looked all the more worse for wear.

"I'm being harassed, I need to go. Listen to me; if the school gets closed, the three of you need to take the floo network directly to me. Whoever is behind the attack, their choice of victims may make them seem like an unintentional alley, but that does _not_ mean you should go looking for them. For all we know this could be a ploy deliberately to draw Harry out. I trust the three of you can look after yourselves and not do anything too stupid," his voice was strict and stern.

It sent a familiar chill down Harry's spine, as those were not entirely dissimilar to the words Mr Weasley had told him regarding Sirius a few years prior.

"We'll talk soon."

With a poof, the fire was suddenly gone, leaving nothing but a still trail of white smoke in its place.

The trio turned to one another.

"Things didn't sound good with them," Ron said.

"They're probably just as confused as us," Hermione agreed. "While the teachers are worrying about keeping the students and school safe, they're worrying how this is going to fit into the bigger picture."

"And what Voldemort's going to think," Harry finished for her.

Hermione nodded solemnly.

"If this really is unrelated to everything that's already going on, then it's going to mess up a lot of people's plans on both sides. That will make a lot of very powerful people angry. We need to keep that anger directed away from us."

* * *

Weekend had come, but you couldn't tell. Lessons were now limited to one a day and students were chaperoned from room to room by almost military-level protection. There were no developments about the disappearances, something which was starting to get frightening. Umbridge's condition hadn't improved and as the days ticked over Harry could feel more and more eyes watching him in the corridors.

He tried desperately to get information from teachers during lesson, but every attempt only got them an almost-word-for-word rehashing of Dumbledore's last speech in the Great Hall. Whatever they knew, if anything, they were being discreet about it. Snape outright refused the subject to be mentioned in his lessons, and even Madam Sprouts usually chipper attitude had faded away. As for the Headmaster himself, he hadn't been sighted in days, and rumor had it he'd left the castle.

"Any chance you could take out Flitch for us next?" Fred asked him.

The noise Hermione made in response sent both of the Weasley twins running for cover down the corridor.

Harry found himself wishing more than ever that Hagrid was here. He hadn't been in his hut when the trio arrived on the Hogwarts Express, and according to Dumbledore, he was away on official Hogwarts business. The trio had taken that as cover for Umbridge having a problem with him teaching, but now she herself was removed, his absence was a noticeable one.

Gryffindor found themselves being escorted down the breakfast by Professor McGonagall and their prefects.

"What if it wasn't a person?" Hermione asked out of the blue.

Ron rolled his eyes. He, as well of a few of the Gryffindors, had grown tired of her constant theorizing. Not that they didn't understand the severity of the situation, but Hermione was doing a good job of making him not care as much.

"What does that even _mean_?"

"I mean, Hagrid has been gone for a while!" she said. "His Acromantulas might have started to stray from the forest. I understand how unlikely that sounds, but I'm positive if it was a person they'd have been found out by now."

Ron grimaced.

"Think we'd have noticed if we had bloody great tarantulas wandering around the castle."

"Well, you two were completely clueless about the giant snake in the pipes."

"Sod off."

Hermione rolled her eyes and continued.

"The Acromantula's could easily make their way up the castle walls and in through windows. You said they have a nest in the forest -that could mean they took Draco there- which would explain the lack of a body."

"Thought you didn't like us using that word?"

Harry was listening to their conversation but was choosing to remain silent.

Malfoy's disappearance happened over a week ago now. Steadily, the conversations had gone from _how to find Malfoy_ to _what happened to Malfoy_. It was a subtle difference, but the indication was ominously daunting. Especially when Hermione had started using it.

His discomfort was growing by the day. Not just because of the danger that could be lurking around any corner, but because he was so unused to sitting around and doing nothing about it. So far as could be told, these events were completely unrelated to the trio, which was something new. Harry had gotten so used to jumping head-on into the danger that now it just felt wrong not being involved, especially if he could be of help to anyone.

Sitting on the sidelines was driving him stir crazy.

Ron pointed off to the side.

"What's going on there?"

A large crowd of students had gathered around the entrance to the dungeons. It wasn't a social group, as everyone was facing the same direction and appeared to be fighting to get a look at something. McGonagall also picked up on them. She broke from the group of Gryffindors to investigate, hissing at the Prefects to keep the students where they were. Harry spotted her meet up with Snape and the two of them disappear through the crowd and into the dungeons.

As the age old expression went: speak of the devil and he shall come.

"Let's go."

Without another word between them, Harry, Ron and Hermione broke from the crowd and joined the growing group of students. They clawed and elbow-nudged their way through the masses, most of whom they now realized were Slytherin.

The mob seemed to stretch the entire way down the staircase and into the dungeons. It wasn't long before somewhere along the way Harry managed to loose Ron and Hermione in the crowd. Scanning over those around him, he spotted a familiar face.

"Daphne?"

The small girl span around in front of him. He froze upon seeing her.

Her eyes were bloodshot. She was crying.

Upon seeing him she instantly flung herself into his arms. Despite barely knowing the girl, he instinctively tightened himself around her in a hug.

"What's going on?" he shouted over the crowd.

Daphne mumbled something into his robe. He moved his head closer to her.

"What did you say? Did something happen?"

"It's Pansy!"

Harry's heart skipped a beat.

He'd spoken to Pansy barely a day ago.

An icy shiver shot down his spine.

She couldn't be... not her too, could she?

"They got her?"

His voice came out as barely a whisper, but Daphne heard him well. She shook her head, which confused him.

"It got too much..." Daphne cried, "we d-didn't think s-she'd do it… S-she…"

He caught her meaning all too well.

A wave of cold washed over him.

Suddenly the hug they shared wasn't entirely just for Daphne's sake.

"I'm scared."

He bit down hard on his lip.

"Yeah. Me too."


	5. Light in the Dark

A memorial service was held for Pansy Parkinson the following weekend in the Great Hall.

The new word of mouth was there was a curse over the school. Pansy's life had been taken of her own accord, meaning it could in no way have been related to Malfoy's disappearance or the attack on Umbridge. This fact then instantly catapulted the idea that all of the instances were unrelated to each other, and if they were all unconnected and not the cause of one single person, who's to say what would happen next? They killer was no longer confined by mortal means, they were now an idea, a physical manifestation of death, floating the corridors in search of its next victim.

The school had fallen silent. Nobody celebrated Umbridge's attack anymore. There were no lessons anymore and no word on when they'd resume. News had finally reached the outside walls and Hogwarts was expected to be closed any day now. The only surprising thing about that was that a definite date hadn't been given yet. Ministry Officials came and went, usually crime scene investigators, but an odd lack of Aurors. Whatever the Professors were up to they were clearly still trying to keep the happenings as an isolated matter. They themselves were rarely seen anymore, and when they were, they were always in a hurry somewhere. The prefects had taken over the guardian roles of the student-body's lives, and its effect was taking its toll on them. The school essentially descended into a free-for-all at this point.

Of the few that attended Pansy's memorial, the trio was among them. Out of the three of them, bizarrely, Hermione was the only one to cry. She had her house scarf scrunched up, used as a cover for her mouth. It wasn't sad tears, she was crying of fear. Ron comforted her, the horrid, morbid reality of the situation finally occurring even to him.

"She was fifteen... How can this be happening?"

Harry said nothing because there was nothing to say. This was past the point of being the yearly Hogwarts mystery, now it was a full-blown tragedy.

Meters away from them was Daphne Greengrass. She wasn't crying, like the last time Harry had seen her. She'd probably ran dry at this point, he considered. Harry broke from his friends and joined her. She didn't respond to his presence until he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"None of us thought she'd do it," she mumbled, mostly to herself. "She was bad, we knew, but…"

Daphne closed her eyes. The second she'd opened her mouth, a swelling of tears had started.

"Were you close?"

Daphne smiled at him. Despite her tears, it was a genuine smile.

"Hardly," she laughed gently. "We bullied each other, mostly. Usually her more than me. But I liked her. I think she liked me, too…"

Daphne turned her attention back to the memorial. Harry wasn't paying attention, but he could have sworn she was closer to him now than a second ago.

Harry felt awkward on his feet. He was never good at talking about his feelings, it was about the only thing he inherited from the Dursleys. Arguments were solved by being quiet and doing as you were told. When he came to Hogwarts and was surrounded so suddenly by people who were willing to not only talk about how they felt, but enjoyed sharing, almost dumbfounded him. It left him on the spot, unable to reciprocate but wishing desperately he knew how to.

But it wasn't like that now. Whether it was the emptiness of the hall around them, or the sheer emotional trauma they'd all faced the past few days, he found his words coming up his throat easier than before.

"She was heartbroken. The best thing we can do now is find out what happened to Malfoy, so that she can rest in peace. And to stop it from happening to anybody else."

Daphne shook her head.

"The schools closing, everybody knows it. They're going to send us all home, the killer will get sent home as well and then they'll never find out who did it. Then none of us will ever see each other again."

"You think it was a student?" Harry shot back quickly.

Daphne looked him up and down, a pale grimace on her face.

"You don't?"

The thought had passed is mind but up until this point he hadn't heard anybody say it. The act of doing so churned his stomach.

Harry gave a heavy sigh, returning to look at the memorial.

"Dumbledore's brilliant, if there's anyone to figure it out it's him... What happened to Malfoy and whoever attacked Umbridge, it's all in good hands."

"You genuinely believe the grown ups know what they're doing? Like they're not as clueless as the rest of us?" asked Daphne.

Harry struggled to meet her eye-line.

"I have faith in Dumbledore."

Daphne shook her head again, this time a harsh shiver ran down her body and she choked back another cry into her hands. The sight of the crying girl implored Harry to comfort her, but his own self awareness stopped him in his tracks. He shuffled awkwardly on the spot, unsure of how to continue.

"I'm just scared…" she said quietly. "Scared of what happens next. Scared of _who_ is next… "

She wiped her eyes and let out a scoff.

"I shouldn't be talking to you about this, I'm sorry... I don't even know you."

A glance around revealed it was just he and Daphne in the hall now, Ron, Hermione and the other participants had long since said their farewells and vacated. An idea had sparked into Harry's mind. He didn't know if it was a particularly good one, but it was something to say, and might have done a little towards helping ease the situation.

"We have a group, actually. We teach each other defensive spells. If you're scared you could come along to it. Learn to protect yourself… you know, if you wanted."

Daphne looked up at him, starring at him like he had just dropped to one knee and proposed to her.

"A-Are you asking me to?" she asked, suddenly looking flustered.

Harry nodded, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Yeah. I think it'd be good to have you there."

Despite her tear-filled cheeks and running nose, Daphne flashed him a radiant smile.

"Then... I'd love to."

* * *

When Harry entered the room, it was bustling with life. Seconds later it was silent.

It was the first DA meeting since all this nasty shit started. He didn't know how many people he was expecting to show up, but to his surprise, near enough everybody was here.

Everyone crowded around him on instinct, but this time was different. Eager faces usually met him, but this time it was ugly, grim expressions staring back at him.

"What are you doing here?" came a voice through the crowd.

Harry sighed, knowing what was coming. He stepped aside to reveal the short, awkward looking girl that was rocking back and forth on her heels.

"Everyone, this is Daphne Greengrass. Now I know it's a little unusual to have a Slytherin with us, but she has mine and Hermione's trust. She's here for the same reasons as all of you, she wants to learn how to protect herself. Anyone that has a problem with that doesn't need to be here."

"That's very nice and all, but I wasn't talking to her."

Harry did a double-take.

"What, me?"

Seamus stepped forward from the crowd, his arms crossed in a standoffish pose.

"People are dropping like flies mate. First Cedric. Then Malfoy, Umbridge. Now Parkinson. What're the only factors they all have in common? You."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but of all the people it was Daphne who was the first to leap to his side.

"He's not the _only_ one they have in common…" she said grumpily.

Seamus scowled at her.

"Oh please, we all saw him talking to her in lesson!" he announced to the room. "Next day she ends up in St Mungos, just like Umbridge. Give over."

Ron moved forward next.

"If you're just here to pick on Harry then you can get out."

"Oh yeah, don't worry I will. But first, I want to see if there's anyone else that also has a problem with this twat being able to walk around freely?"

He gestured at Harry, and then out at the room around him, expectantly.

Finally Hermione stepped forward, sealing the gap between Harry and Ron. She too looked around the room in anticipation.

"If they don't believe Harry's innocence then they are more than welcome to leave, too!"

After a second, eventually, there was movement. A few nameless faces in the crowd shuffled on the spot for a moment, and then shrinking away to join Seamus. Judging expressions came from Hermione and Daphne.

Seamus nodded. He pointed two fingers at Harry as they began to move towards the exit.

"We're watching you. Don't you forget it."

Harry watched him as he left. He spotted Daphne seething beside him.

"What a vile man..."

Harry shook his head.

"I don't blame him..."

He turned to address the room fully, teacher-mode now taking over.

"There is not a single person in this room I wouldn't trust. And the fact that some of you are still here means that you trust me too. I'm not responsible for anything that's been going on anymore than you lot have. Anybody who knows me knows that I'm not the one behind this. But that being said… if there are some of you who genuinely feel unsafe being taught by me, you can walk away. No hard feelings, I get it."

After Harry's words, the room fell still. Nobody spoke, but more importantly, nobody moved a muscle. The only movement in the room was Neville's head snapped from side to side, checking if the others around him had moved.

It looked like whoever was left over was indeed here to stay. Fighting to keep his professional persona on, Harry resisted the urge to smile in gladness.

"On with the lesson, then!" he clapped his hands together, lightening the mood with a smile. "Now is a more important time than ever for us to be capable of defending ourselves. Today we're going to be practicing and mastering the stupefy charm."

After Samus's spat, the rest of the lesson passed uneventfully. Attention was taken away from Harry, but unfortunately, it was re-directed at Daphne. It was clear more than a few people felt uncomfortable with a Slytherin in lesson with them, so Harry ended up being her partner for most of the exercises.

As they paired off in an isolated corner of the room, Daphne spoke up.

"You were too nice to that man. I wouldn't have been as good as you were."

He shrugged, offering her a solemn smile.

"He's just scared, I don't blame him. People lash out when they're scared."

Daphne huffed.

"You're too nice, Harry Potter. It'll hurt you."

If Harry didn't know any better, she appeared to be annoyed at him. He decided to lighten the mood with a laugh.

As they descended into the actual spell casting, he was taken aback by how skilled Daphne was proving to be. Her looks definitely deceived her, no doubt in a physical confrontation she could be thrown around like a rag-doll, but right now she was doing well holding her own against him. She already knew stupefy perfectly and how to defend against it, she reflected every spell he sent her way and almost sent him flying across the room on more than one occasion. Then again she was a friend of Hermione's, so what was he expecting?

She proved to be so good he eventually paired her off with Neville, who as of yet hadn't performed a single successful casting. He then set about monitoring the others process and was reasonably delighted to find everyone else excelling at the routines he had given them. There must have been something in the air that had gotten everyone fired up, if it wasn't Harry's confrontation with Seamus, it was probably want for their own self-preservation.

Before long everyone was performing adequate versions of the offensive spell and Harry decided to bring the lesson to a close. As he was giving his congratulations and final words, he noticed a few funny looks were still being sent Daphne's way. Dismissing the class, he tried to make a beeline for her.

"See you later, Harry!" a voice came through the crowd.

Harry's head snapped to the side.

"Oh, bye, Cho!" he smiled, waving the girl off.

As he turned back to Daphne, he found her already upon him. They met in the middle and made their exit together.

"Is this what all the lessons are like?" she asked him.

Harry rubbed the base of his neck, trying to hide his pride.

"This one went very well, actually. It's usually a bit more chaotic."

"Will you be teaching all of them?"

"Yeah. They picked me as a teacher because everyone believes I'm the best qualified. Sound's bad for me to agree with them, but yeah. It is what it is."

Daphne smiled. She spun around on her heels, her skirt doing a dramatic swoosh around her.

"Well then I look forward to our next lesson together, _Professor_."

With that, she skipped joyfully down the corridor. Harry marveled at her as she left. She was, yet again, proving a completely different side to her that Harry had seen before. It was as though the terror haunting the halls of Hogwarts had completely vanished, and she was smiling like a giddy schoolgirl.

And furthermore, for the first time in what felt like forever, Harry was smiling too.


End file.
